


Yes, Mr. Coulson

by aquinique



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Corporate, M/M, Pre-Slash, Smart Clint, Swearing, finding his way in a world he knows nothing about, how it feels being on Phil's wrong side, pre-slash because stubborn boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquinique/pseuds/aquinique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clint Barton lands a job at the recruitment department of SHIELD Inc., he believes it might be his luck finally turning. Then he meets his boss, who probably doesn't sleep at all and doesn't accept any failures either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ready or not, here I come!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceria/gifts).



> This story dwelves into the life of corporate recruitment. Some parts are written from experience, some not so much, so, please, take it all with a grain of salt. 
> 
> This story is a Christmas gift for Ceria. Ceria, although it's not really a Christmas story, I hope that it will still make your day nicer. I inspired myself with your general love of AU and Phil being impressed by Clint.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint sure hoped that SHIELD wasn't one of those companies, where they asked about the impression of the candidate even the leaning staff.

     Looking at himself in the mirror, Clint adjusted his tie for the seventh time. No matter how he put it, it seemed to be crooked or to literally choke him. Why did he even decide to go to the interview to SHIELD? He wondered, while desperately trying to adjust the god-awful thing.

Ok, scratch that. He knew, why he had to go to the interview to SHIELD Inc.: he had no money and was out of all options, which was leaving him with job interview at SHIELD as his only chance.

Luckily, he consoled himself, there didn’t seem to be that many people speaking German _AND_ Russian with immediate availability, so when Bucky ( _Thank you_ , buddy!) mentioned the open position, he had applied. Based on Bucky’s recommendation he had even scored an interview. They really had to be desperate, which was good, because Clint wasn’t sure that he could stand a chance otherwise. It wasn’t even about his confidence…much, because c’mon, they were SHIELD - the company of the year, which was supposedly even branching out to Europe. Candidates were basically drooling on every job opening posted on the company website. Clint himself wasn't picky, whatever paid the bills.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead was resting against the cool mirror. Taking a few breaths, he centered himself before he tried one last time to adjust the tie. Staring in his own eyes, he took a deep breath: Time to pull himself together and score a job.

~~~

     Before going to the interview, Clint had checked the address so he arrived at SHIELD with a reasonable time reserve. Now, staring at the imposing building with glass entry and a large shield painted on the top of the entrance, he realized that he needn’t had to worry about finding the building, because it was simply impossible to miss it. The other thing he realized was that Google Maps didn’t do the tall art deco building with tasteful geometry justice. Clint remembered reading on the SHIELD intro page that the building had won an architectural prize for renovation of the year. Well, the architects and renovators definitely did a good job, he mused, as he walked through large glass doors inside.

If the building was impressive from the outside, it was even more amazing from the inside: there were high glass walls with strategically placed greenery that created feeling of freshness and space, yet there were still some elements of art deco preserved. Clint stood floored, admiring the beauty.

The day at SHIELD was starting, which meant that heaps of people were passing by him, clicking their security cards to terminals and occasionally greeting ladies working at the front desk. It seemed that all of them were passing the beauty around them without notice, while Clint would give anything to have the opportunity to walk through this entrance every day. It would definitely be a far cry from his circus trailer days.

With determination he checked the names of his interview partners: Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff. Hill and Romanoff, Hill and Romanoff. He walked towards the front desk trying to appear as competent as possible all the while trying not to forget his interview partners HillRomanoffHillRomanoff.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview with Ms. Romanoff and Ms. Hill for a position in HR.”

The woman smiled at him. Clint stammered. “My name’s Barton. I mean Clint Barton. In your papers probably as Clinton Barton.”

Despite his rambling she smiled professionally again and started looking in the papers. “The interview’s at 9.30. With Ms. Romanoff and Hill,” he blabbered as she paged through endless columns of names. Damn it, why did he have to mention the names again? He looked like an idiot already and the interview hasn’t even started. He hoped that SHIELD wasn't one of those companies, which were checking everybody's impression after the interview (even of the cleaning staff).

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Barton, please, take a seat, I notified Ms. Hill. She’ll come and pick you up in a moment. In the meantime, please, fill out these materials and take this visitor security card.”

She handed him a form and pointed him towards red couches a few meters away. There were some other candidates waiting there and filling out their forms diligently.

Clint approached them carefully. Some of them had suits that probably cost more than his monthly rent. Damn. If this was his competition, his chances seemed pretty bleak.

He had just managed to fill out the form when a beautiful woman with primly pinned up hair stopped by him.

“Mr. Barton, I assume. My name’s Maria Hill.”

He shot up from his seat and took her offered hand nothing that her shake was firm and decisive - Maria Hill wasn't a woman to mess with.

He smiled politely. “I’m Clint Barton. Nice to meet you.”

Was that okay? Should he have repeated her name? He never knew, pleasantries sounded unnatural rolling from his tongue.

“Nice to meet you too.” She beckoned him to follow her, explaining as they walked. “It’s a bit of a walk, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s OK. I enjoy doing sports, so I’m fit. Sports are great. Reading too of course.”

Clint had a feeling that he will soon have an out of body experience, if he continued to embarrass himself like this. SHUT UP! He tried to order his rebellious mouth. I love sports! Books too! Could he be any more pathetic? He winced internally and stole a glance at Hill walking next to him. She didn’t seem particularly put out by his response. Or thrilled. She didn’t seem just about anything, all reactions perfectly covered by her professional expression of mild understanding.

Her expression might have been mild, but walking through the maze of corridors, Clint was actually having trouble to keep up with her despite the fact that they were approximately the same height and she was walking on killer heels.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Romanoff fell ill yesterday and we were unable to inform you of the change ahead, therefore her place will be taken by Mr. Fury.” She informed him while leading him into a room that was uncomfortably big. It was richly furnished with high windows and a great view of the city like in some movie. If SHIELD could afford impressing everybody with _this_ , they had to have candidates with degrees lining up even for the position in cleaning staff. Tearing away his eyes from the spectacular view, he noticed that behind a large table made of dark wood (mahogany?) sat a man, who was definitely not Ms. Romanoff and appeared no less intimidating than the entire room. Clint tried very hard not to stare at his pirate set-up. He grew up in a circus; he should be used to all kind of weird. He.could.do.this!

When the man rose up to offer his hand, he towered over Clint. “Mr. Barton,” he said shortly and crushed Clint’s fingers in his huge bear-hand

“Mr. Fury,” Clint greeted back and sat down to have a view of both of his interviewers.

There were glasses of water ready for all three of them and with his throat suddenly parched Clint wondered if it would be vastly inappropriate to take a sip already at the beginning. He put his hand on the table, then seeing their eagle stares trained at him, he pulled them slowly back. He had read some articles about open body language, but under their strict scrutiny he couldn’t recall if it was OK to have his hands on the table or not.

Glancing over his CV with notes written all over it Hill asked directly. “Mr. Barton, tell us something about yourself.”

Of course this was something Clint had expected. A typical interview start. “As you can tell from my CV, my life’s a little…unusual, so to say,” he shrugged self-consciously. There was no way he could mask his unusual circumstances, so it was always better to be upfront about it.

“I got orphaned at 5 and then lived with my brother in a circus. I guess that means I can juggle a lot…?” he wiggled his eyebrows slightly. The joke fell flat, not a muscle moving in their faces. He nervously shuffled on his seat. Right.

“I lived in the circus until I was 12 and then social services showed up and took us away.” He shrugged. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of his life, he really wasn’t, but it still felt strange to talk about it with absolute strangers. “I lived in an orphanage until I finished high school. Now I’m twenty and looking for a new challenge.” Upon saying the words, Clint winced. He shouldn’t have read all the stupid articles about job interviews.

“What happened to your brother?”

Ah, it was a vain hope that she wouldn’t notice the pronouns.

“He’s in jail. He went with the wrong crowd,” Clint muttered. Yes, my only family member is a criminal in jail, still thinking of giving me the job?

_““Govorite po ruskiy?”_

_“I met a lot of foreigners in the circus, that’s how I learnt Russian and German. I talk mostly only with my friend though.”_ Only when she lifted a surprised eyebrow did he realize that he was actually replying to her in fluent Russian. He didn’t even realize that they had switched languages.

_“Und wie ist es mit Deutsch?”_

Clint twitched, he had so concentrated on Hill that he had almost forgotten that Fury was sitting there too.

“My German is not perfect, but not bad, I think,” he answered readily.

Fury barked a laugh and sprawled in the chair staring at Clint with keen interest, he wasn’t saying anything though, leaving the interview entirely in Hill’s hands.

“Why did you choose this job?” she asked smoothly, making notes into her notes.

Really? Sweet Jesus, because I fucking need the money, what do you think? Clint rolled his internal mind eye, but actually managed to keep it to himself and answer politely.

“A friend of mine, James Barnes, who works here, mentioned that you are looking for people with German and Russian. He always said only good things about SHIELD, so I thought I might give it a shot.”

Was the answer good enough? Clint really wasn’t sure, because Hill's expression remained impenetrable as ever. Fury, on the other hand, seemed to be almost amused.

They asked about the few odd jobs here and there he had done in the previous years, but he was quite sure that there was nothing glorious about washing dishes while going to an evening management course in a not very reputable part of town. It didn’t make sense to paint it any better, so he didn’t. After another half an hour of describing useless things, the interview ended with predictable _We’ll contact you_.

Clint could barely remember following Hill down the corridors, giving back his visitor ID and shaking her hand. He walked through the luxurious reception and only when the wind outside cooled his heated face he was brought out of his stupor.

Damn. What an interview. He wheezed out, closing his eyes and turning his face to warm sun. SHIELD sure was quite a different league.

He whipped out his phone and dialed Bucky.

“Hey. I just finished.”

“So how was it?”

“I blew it so hard you have no idea,” Clint laughed, feeling the stress falling away from his shoulders.

“Shit. Sorry, man. Did they say no?”

“They said they’d call.”

Bucky grunted and Clint really appreciated he wasn’t trying to bullshit him about still having a chance.

What a day…


	2. Brand new world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start certainly isn't as easy, as Clint had envisioned.

          The second time Clint walked through the entrance of SHIELD Inc., it was with the same appreciation, but also with a huge smile. A small group of sharply dressed people looking both anxious and self-confident congregated by the front desk and he knew right away that these were other newcomers. He joined the group and smiled fondly when he caught the envious stares of candidates, who were anxiously waiting on the red couches he remembered all too well.

He turned back to look at his group and spotted Hill marching towards them. The whole group split for her so quickly that she didn’t need to break her pace. At last, she stopped in front of them.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, I assume you had read your welcoming email and you picked up your badge at the reception.”

Clint felt his throat parch in a second. Email? He didn’t read any email. He wasn’t even aware there was an email to be read.

He tentatively raised his hand, feeling like an idiot.

“Yes, Mr. Barton?” she asked sharply.

“I, uh…I don’t have the badge. And…didn’t read the email.” As he said it, he realized that his hand subconsciously shot up to rub at the back of his hand. He jerked it away and then let it fall awkwardly.

“Ok, everybody, please, wait a moment until I handle it.” Hill stepped towards the reception, ignoring the wave of grumbling that went through the whole group of newcomers. Oh, he was no doubt going to be the most popular newcomer of this group.

It took a few minutes of talking, when she beckoned him to come closer.

“Please, fill this out,” she handed him a badge application form. He filled it out as quickly as he could, but it still felt like an eternity. When he finally finished, they handed him a visitor badge.

“Use this today. Pick up your own badge here tomorrow morning,” she instructed him briskly.

“Thanks,” Clint mumbled. Feeling increasingly embarrassed, he stuck the badge into his pocket.

Hill looked at him sharply. “Please, hang it around your neck or pin it on a visible place, unless you prefer our security hunting you down.”

“Of course,” Clint muttered hastily. He wasn’t really sure if she as joking or there really was security roaming the building looking for intruders, but he didn't want to risk it.

“Ah, don’t really enjoy broken ribs,” he joked tightly, hanging the lanyard around his neck. She lifted eyebrow at him as if she wondered why they actually picked him.

Clint didn't really begrudge her, although he didn't really care what she thought of him. He was selected just like all the guys around him, he might not be the best of them, but he sure as hell was going to fight to prove that he deserved his place.

With the fire in his veins he followed her and the rest of the group around the building, where they were one-by-one left in their respective new teams. He knew that SHIELD was huge, but he didn’t realize just how much. They passed so many new places and faces that he was relieved, when they practically ran through Lifecycle, where he spotted Bucky, who managed to give him a cheeky grin and enthusiastic thumbs up, before their walking tour disappeared in corridors again. Ironically, starting in a new work wasn’t that different from being in the circus, Clint mused, they were being paraded like prized animals, but that at least meant they had some value, didn’t it?

          When they finally came to the recruitment floor, he was thankful that could finally leave the touring group. Despite his exhaustion, he put a smile on his face, because this was it – his team at last! He looked around himself eagerly, but it seemed that he had come in the middle of some hustle and bustle, because the team was huddled together in a group and discussing something fiercely. Hill was immediately alerted too. “Wait here a moment, please,” she told him and went into the eye of the storm, where she started talking to a petite sharply dressed red-head.

After a moment the red-head came over to him while Hill left with the rest of the newcomers.

The red-head was smaller than him, but seemed to command the whole room with her presence. “Sorry, we’re not usually like this. Unfortunately, we have a situation, at the moment. But you don't have to worry about it. Yet.” She added with a sharp smile. “I’m Natasha Romanoff, Team leader of Recruitment and HR.” He could see why she was a team lead – she was fierce and energetic, he liked her.

“What's going on?” he asked, feeling more curious than scared.

“We’re undergoing some re-organization. But as I said, you don't have to worry about it. What I need you to do is to concentrate on your training.” She handed him a paper with many dates, times and names. “This is your training schedule for the upcoming two weeks. Concentrate on these lessons first, it’s necessary for you to understand, how the company works. You’ll receive invitations also into your inbox. Outside your training, you’ll shadow Thor Odinson, he’ll be your mentor. You’ll gradually take over his role.”

She pointed him towards a table with writing supplies, post-its, and a computer, where company logo was swimming as a screensaver.

“Please, check your emails and familiarize yourself with your schedule for the next days. Check if anything is colliding. If you need anything, approach me or Steve Rogers, who is my deputy.”

She smiled at him a little tightly, because the commotion in the team was starting to gain volume, then shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, business calls," she said and returned to her team.

Clint dragged himself towards his computer station and sat down heavily. He wasn’t even too disappointed that the whole team seemed to be invested in the talk and not him. Three hours into his first day and he was ready to crawl back into bed to sleep it off. Who knew the day would be so hard? He actually wouldn’t even mind having a moment just for himself, but it was still too early for lunch.

He stretched a little in the chair, turning a few times in both directions to loosen up his muscles. He looked at the screen with the swimming shield and then subtly stole a glance over the rim of his monitor at the group still fervently discussing the problem. It seemed like the discussion wouldn’t be dying down any time soon. Well, they had their work, he had his.

He dutifully opened his email. There didn’t seem to be much, apart from one standard Welcome message and another message sent by IT department. That won’t take long, he mused.

Skipping the welcoming message he went straight for the other email, because it looked like something that promised some work. Going over it, he realized that it was actually unexpectedly long with many points like How to change your computer password; How to contact Contact Center; How to open a ticket; Contacts for New York, Moscow and Hamburg; How to add Time-zones add-on for desktop.

Staring at the screen, he swallowed hard. When he woke up in the morning, New York City was his whole world, but now it seemed like it would grow much, much bigger.

Refusing to get overwhelmed, Clint took a deep breath and quickly scanned the email further. Before he even reached half of it, the number of messages in inbox started growing exponentially and at last ended at 32. Sweet Mother of Jesus, he was here only the first day with no valid experience whatsoever only thanks to his passable knowledge of a weird combination of languages, give him a break! Clint felt a wave of panic closing up his throat when suddenly a message popped up on his screen.

“Hi! :) <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYCrQlhWCu0>”

It was a message from somebody called Bruce Banner. Wasn’t that the deputy team-lead? Clint looked at a small chart of team-members with names, titles, and photos that somebody helpfully attached to a small space of wall free next to his monitor.

No, deputy was Steven Rogers, a gorgeous blonde, with perfectly even teeth. Banner, Banner ah, Bruce Banner, senior recruiter responsible for Research and Development. Clint scanned the office for the distinctive face framed by curly hair and covered by glasses. At last he spotted Banner sitting by a computer one row behind him. He seemed to be working, just like the other members. Huh, when did they disband their group-talk, Clint had no idea. Catching his eye, Banner smiled at him encouragingly. Clint smiled back woodenly and returned to gazing at his screen. Was it even appropriate to open YouTube on his first day? Banner didn’t seem like a guy, who would like to get other people into trouble… Clint decided to risk it and clicked on the link.

[ ](http://s1135.photobucket.com/user/Veronika_Vagnerova/media/clint1_zpsvqnnn9t7.jpg.html)

The video opened and he had to snigger, because yeah, Payroll, HR, PR, IT, he didn’t manage WC yet.

“Hi. Thanks” he quickly wrote into the messenger.

“You looked like you needed it J.” Came the instant reply. The video reminded him that he had wanted to look for the gents already some time ago. When he came to his computer, he stared at the screen dumfounded – it was flipped upside down.

[ ](http://s1135.photobucket.com/user/Veronika_Vagnerova/media/clint2_zpsxp79fqrd.png.html)

He heard Tony Stark (Security and IT) snicker. “Security, Barton, always lock your computer, when leaving. It's in the email.”

“Tony!” Steve Rogers, the deputy team leader standing next to Stark, admonished him.

“What if audit came?” Tony defended himself with a devilish grin.

“It’s OK,” Clint sighed. It took him only a few minutes to Google the solution and actually, it was even kind of funny. Clint wasn’t above practical jokes himself. He could give, but also take. Flipping his screen back, he grinned and proceeded with reading his emails, but this time with much lighter feeling. Maybe it won’t be that bad after all. The team sure looked like a bunch of colorful characters; hopefully, Clint could fit right in.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint finally talks to the infamous Coulson. It doesn't go well.

          Who was he kidding? It was terrible! He had trainings from morning till evening, being introduced to everybody and their cousin as well as inner working of SHIELD. It was an entirely new world: one where he seemed to be the only one without the rule book. He had intro to lifecycle, data management, payroll, recruitment, software and it was clear to him that everyone in his newcomer group knew at least half of the stuff. Everyone but him, of course. A week of trainings made him no wiser. Thank God, at least recruitment seemed easier to understand.

Thor had already shown him how to create a new job opening in the system, get approvals from everybody involved and post it online. That was surprisingly straightforward and seeing the number of candidates applying online made Clint's heart beat faster. But still the best feeling was, when the hiring manager picked a candidate and they could send all data to Lifecycle, where the work contract was created. Clint had sometimes heard Bucky talk about his work and creating contracts, but it felt so different now!

The only thing that Clint haven't tried properly yet was reading incoming CVs, eeeeh screening the position. Or that's how they called it at SHIELD. He was actually quite thrilled to try it himself, but so far he had only watched Thor doing it. Clint was just about to switch from his inbox to the system to actually try the screening himself, when Thor leaned against his table (making it creak under his massive muscles).

“Hey, have a moment?” Thor asked with a grave face, which was so unusual for the usually jovial guy that Clint immediately grew worried. “Yeah, sure, what's up?” he couldn't help but ask directly.

Thor cocked his head thoughtfully, as if gauging Clint. At last he said: “Look, I know that you were told that you’ll take over my agenda, but some things changed.”

Clint immediately felt a lump forming in his throat. He just hoped he wasn’t out of job, damn it.

Thor, not oblivious to his torment, quickly continued. “Today, Rumlow gave his notice, which leaves us in a tight spot.”

Clint vaguely remembered seeing Rumlow once or twice; he never seemed to be around much, though where exactly he was spending his time, Clint had no idea. Maybe he was having many phone or Skype interviews in the boots outside of the open office. 

“He….surprised us,” Thor actually winced, while saying this and Clint got a feeling that the split was absolutely not amiable. “Apart from him, you’re the only one, who currently speaks German too, so we’ll need to improvise. So instead of mine you'll take over his agenda.”

Despite not being up to date on everything yet, Clint has heard about Germany a lot. Their first West-European branch was just being founded there and it seemed like SHIELD was very invested in getting established there very quickly.

"Me? Germany?" Clint squeaked in shock. 

Steve walking past his table with a headset still wrapped around his neck (meaning he must have been returning from a phone interview in boot) stopped. “Clint’s taking over Germany?” he stared at them in shock. Clint blinked. If even the deputy didn’t know, it really must have been a split-second decision.

Thor’s shrugged helplessly. “Yeah, Rumlow gave his notice,” he responded to Steve’s question with a grim face.

Steve frowned deeply. He looked at Romanoff's glass office, but when he spotted that she was sitting with a tight expression with a phone practically glued to her ear, he turned to Thor again. “Who’s in Germany at the moment?”

“Coulson.” Thor responded immediately.

Coulson? Clint had heard the name before, at least he thought so. Coulson was mentioned in some articles about SHIELD as one of the brains behind its success; however, so far, he gave no official interview to anyone.

“That’s good. Coulson’s good,” Steve said and Thor nodded along. 

"Who is he?" Clint couldn't help but ask, because everybody seemed to know more than him.

"Ah, you haven't talked to him yet. He is our HR business partner in Germany. He's American, so you don't have to speak German with him. He's leading building the core-team in Germany that would start all processes there."

Despite the fact that Steve explained it fairly easily, Clint had a feeling that it wouldn't be that simple by far. 

Clint frowned. “Is there anything to worry about?” He was aware that it was a stupid question to ask the moment Steve and Thor exchanged a brief worried glance.

“I’ve never worked for Germany or with Coulson, because the operations there are new. Heard he knows what he's doing, though.” Steve shrugged with Thor nodding along in agreement.

Clint got a pep talk from the team-leader Natasha Romanoff not ten minutes later. No sooner had he sat down again, Rumlow stopped by his desk.

“Barton, I’ve booked us an interview room for an hour. In twenty minutes we have a call with Coulson. I’ll introduce you to him so bring your headset,” he said brusquely, not waiting for Clint’s reply.

“Yeah, sure,” Clint muttered at his colleague’s retreating back. Well, Rumlow was on his way out, of course he didn’t care what impression he left. That didn’t mean Clint could afford the same luxury. He turned back to his computer and opened Recruitment Process Guide he had received during his training. If Coulson was the ideal of a consummate professional as everybody had implied so far, Clint would better be prepared. He had just barely time to skim over the basic outline of the hiring process when he spotted Rumlow getting up from his table and taking his headset with him. Clint hastily grabbed his own and quickly followed him, because it was clear that Rumlow didn’t care if he was coming.

They ended in one of small interview rooms, where Rumlow quickly set up the phone so they could both talk, while Clint was watching him and squirming uneasily. “Everybody’s been talking about Coulson,” Clint started conversationally, trying to break the ice between and to ease his nerves. Rumlow looked away from the phone briefly and grumbled.

“Can’t see why. He’s nothing special. Just setting up new office in Germany and making a big deal of it."

Well, Clint knew that much already, no help there. 

"So, what's actually there so far? In Germany, I mean..." Clint asked forcefully easily, although he would rather actually not.

Rumlow scoffed. "Just Coulson plus a few other guys building recruit, starting on supply chain and IT. Mostly you just work with Coulson, so if you shit your pants so easily, find a different job.”

A wave of anger welled up in Clint. He had met many nasty types during his fucked up childhood, he could read people well and it seemed that Rumlow was intending to make Clint's life as hard as possible. But this wasn't the first time he’d have to fend for himself; he didn’t need Rumlow to pave his way.

Despite his seething he didn’t get to retort anything because Rumlow was already dialing Germany, so Clint settled next to him with his headset on and listening with abated breath. He didn't like Rumlow one bit, but he was still thankful that for the moment Rumlow would be the one speaking and he could just listen.

The phone needed to ring only once. “Yes, Coulson speaking,” came a concise greeting in a snappish tone.

“Coulson, I’m calling you as agreed….”Rumlow started, but Coulson cut him off.

“Have you actually looked at the candidates you sent me in the last batch?”

Uh, oh. Clint swallowed. Coulson sounded really angry.

“Why else would I send them to you?” Rumlow's snap back made Clint cringe in his seat.

“That’s what I was wondering too. None of them had the qualifications for the job. You’re wasting my time.”

No scratch that, the man wasn’t angry, he was pissed and obviously intending to make Rumlow feel the entire impact of his ire.

Clint swallowed thickly. He had never worked in a big company and he had heard that corporate life was tough, but he still envisioned it quite differently.

“If the job ad isn’t right, I can’t be responsible for the candidates we get.” Rumlow defended himself pig-headedly.

“ _I_ wrote the candidate requirements and task scope. I dare to hope that I know what kind of candidates we need,” Coulson replied in a voice that could strip color from walls.

From the corner of his eye Clint could see that even Rumlow grimaced.

“I did my best.” Rumlow retorted in a dispassionate tone that would have tried the patience of a saint.

“Your best is remarkably low.” Coulson's acidic tone was quickly changing into one just short of absolutely unleashed fury. “Maybe you should consider a new career.”

For a man, who was just told that he was absolutely shit at his job by a man, who sounded dangerous even over the phone, Rumlow still appeared amazingly unruffled.

“Aaaand on that optimistic note, I want to introduce my replacement, Mr. Clinton Barton.” Rumlow said almost jovially with a wide smile. Clint was half convinced that his teammate wasn't just an idiot, but he was riling Coulson on purpose. Decisively, he grabbed the line divider switching to his line.

“Hello, this is Clint Barton, can you hear me?” This was so not what he meant to say. Of course Coulson could hear him, which the man himself confirmed in an irritated tone. “I can hear you loud and clear.”

“Uh, oh, hello? Nice to e-meet you, I mean phone meet you. Hope, our cooperation will be great.”

Sweet Jesus! What’s wrong with him?!

“It can’t be much worse than it’s now. Rumlow, send me new candidates by today evening, ones that actually fit their position!”

Then, Coulson went into another tirade, which Rumlow seemed perfectly happy to deflect as easily as all criticism before. Frankly, Clint admired the attitude a little, it equaled to a suicidal maniac, but in the end, it left _Clint_ with riled Coulson deal with in the future.

The rest of the phone went by half-unheard, because Clint was too lost in his scattered thoughts. He was quite sure that Coulson thought that both of his phone partners were morons and Clint couldn’t really blame him. He himself _hated_ phoning with people. The little training he had during onboarding wasn’t enough by far to prepare him for this and Rumlow seemed to be actively making an idiot out of himself.

At last, Rumlow put down the phone.

“Asshole!” he growled. Clint didn’t bother mentioning that Coulson most likely slammed the phone down with even bigger expletives leaving his mouth (and Clint wouldn't blame him).

“I don’t have the nerves for this. I’m leaving right this moment.”

“What?” Clint squeaked, his eyes bulging out in panic.

Rumlow just gave him a condescending look and marched in the direction of Romanoff’s office.

“Shit…” Clint mumbled, as he stared at his messy notes from _half_ of the talk with Coulson he had actually listened to. _Shitshitshitshit_

Clint walked back into the office numbly, his headset cable dragging behind him like a dejected puppy. When he entered, everybody in the office turned to look at him with curiosity. He realized that they had seen Rumlow storm in and go straight for Romanoff’s office.

“I didn’t do anything,” he defended himself reflexively in a defeated tone.

When the eyes still didn’t leave him, he shrugged and finally pushed out: “Coulson…happened?” It wasn’t only Coulson, it was Rumlow too and God knew what else. His eyes slid to the glassy office of Romanoff, where Rumlow sat sprawled on the chair. Seeing the I-couldn’t-care-less posture, Clint wasn’t quite sure if he even wanted Rumlow to reconsider and stay a bit longer.

Steve stood up and walked over to his side, looking in the same direction. “Maybe it’s better like this,” he muttered so softly that it was surely meant only for Clint.

He glanced at Steve, quite unconvinced. “Ya think?”

Steve shrugged. “They wouldn’t hire you if you didn’t have the potential,” he said firmly.

Clint looked towards Rumlow. “What about him?” he asked skeptically.

Thinking a moment, at last Steve replied sadly. “Some potential just gets lost. Don’t beat yourself up about this. Sorry, got to go, have an interview in three minutes.”

It wasn’t much, but it still made Clint feel better. Definitely felt much better than Rumlow’s brand of pep talk. He sat down to his computer resolutely; he would do this job even if it killed him!

 

          Clint never learnt, what was said in Romanoff’s office, he only noticed that later Romanoff was joined by Hill and when the meeting ended and people were leaving the office, even Hill’s face contorted into disgust, when she thought nobody was looking. The outcome, however, wasn’t very good for Clint: Rumlow brought boxes to clear out his table the very same day. On his way out he dumped into Clint's lap a paper with some scribbles and waved goodbye to everybody with a vicious grin.

Thus it happened that all Clint had left were his meager notes from the terrible phone call and Rumlow’s notes. But he soon found out that Rumlow’s chicken scratch was even worse than his, so all put together: he had nothing. Clint tiredly put his head on the table to rest there as stress-induced headache started pounding behind his eyes.

The office was not exactly a quiet place. There was a constant stream of people coming and going and the office was permanently buzzing with talk about trainings and interviews. Clint liked the free flow of energy, but at the moment he wished for nothing more than a deserted island.

There was a gentle cough to his left and he sat up so quickly he almost gave himself a whiplash. With widened eyes he noted that Romanoff was standing by his table. He didn’t even hear her coming! “This might seem a little overwhelming,” Romanoff said carefully, as if gauging his reaction.

“Yeah.” He didn’t bother to elaborate his understatement of the year.

“I understand that you had a handover with Rumlow.” She still watched him carefully.

Clint’s gaze automatically landed at the small pile of nothing that was on his table. “He gave me his notes.” He shrugged.

Sparing the notes a brief glance, Romanoff winced sympathetically. “It might get a bit rocky at the beginning, but take your time, look into the system, backtrack, if necessary.”

Clint nodded dumbly, of course he would do that, there wasn’t much else he could do. Since the project was only starting, Rumlow was the only recruiter for Germany. Nobody else knew much about it. He doubted even Coulson had information about all positions currently opened there. 

“Go home. Sleep on it. It can wait,” she said softly.

Clint didn’t have more energy than to nod, gather his things and mumble a weak goodbye to everybody.

There were 35 open job positions for Germany, he had checked. 35 positions to go through, backtrack all steps, go over available documentation, and notify candidates if necessary. His stomach flipped uncomfortably only by the thought. Maybe for someone like Steve, it would be a piece of cake, Clint still felt like a newbie and things took him longer. Also the positions in the US were divided among the team by fields and the choices were logical. For example, Bruce had background in science, so he had research and development. Tony used to be a hacker in his young and tumultuous days, so he had security and IT. It was all logical. But Clint had only a few years in the circus and no real work experience whatsoever.

And now, from one day to the next, whole Germany was dropped into his lap. His thoughts before sleep were uneasy, just like the sleep that followed them.


	4. With a little help from my friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint gets to surprise Coulson, with a little help from his friend.

          Thankfully, the team also realized how difficult his situation was and they closed their ranks around him, sparing him of any team-shared task they could, so he had more space to endlessly google, dig deep in the system and go over the process guide for Germany. Clint had never realized how many variations the standard process had due to foreign legal requirements.

He printed out the whole process guide and spent hours going through it with a fine-tooth comb, making endless notes in the margins, until he could make heads or tails of it. In the end he managed to summarize the whole process and basic rules on a small post-it. He was very proud of it too!

For the first time since he had started, Clint felt like his head was breaking the surface and he could take a gulp of air. Who knew, maybe with some luck he could even get through the trial period. Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“Listen, dumb-head. If SHIELD hires you,” Bucky groused, “they wanna keep you. You’re a long-term investment. Plus, from what I’ve heard, Germany is under pressure. They need you, of course you’ll make it through the trial.”

It wasn’t so clear if Coulson also got the memo that SHIELD (supposedly) needed him, Clint mused as he set out to screen some positions that were brimming with candidates, who should have received feedback ages ago.

He chose a position of a Security first. Couldn’t be too hard, everyone knew what a security did, right?

.

.

.

Wrong! Clint thought desperately after reading another CV: applying candidates had experience far beyond his, they were of all age brackets and levels of education, it was just so hard to choose. How was he supposed to decide? What if his decision was wrong and crushed somebody’s life?

Panicked, he looked over the rim of his monitor around the office. Thor was actually screening too, but he didn't seem to agonize over it. Instead, he was going easily through the CVs and rejecting candidates like it was a daily thing. Clint froze. Oh God! It was a daily thing for them! Clint put down the pencil because he needed a moment to breathe the thought through. He let his head hang low and took a few deep breaths.

He didn’t even manage to get himself properly together when suddenly his phone started ringing. Clint jerked so hard, the pencil he was writing notes with actually flew out of his hand and landed on the floor. He started after it stupidly, and then stared at his ringing landline. The candidates couldn’t call them straight; they needed to get through the call center first, so most of them simply wrote an email. So despite working at SHIELD for some weeks already, this was the first time, his landline was actually ringing.

Waking out of his stupor, he quickly grabbed his headset connected to the phone and accepted the call. “Hello, this is Clint Barton from Recruitment speaking…”

A woman with a nice voice inquired: “Mister Barton, we have a call for you from Mr. Phillip Coulson. The matter seems urgent; do you have the space to accept the call now?”

Internally, Clint wondered for a second, what Coulson would do, if he didn’t take the call. Send a pigeon, most likely.

“Yeah, put him through, please.”

“Hello…” Clint didn’t manage to get further, because Coulson briskly cut him off. “Mister Barton, did you read the manual for Hamburg when you were creating the offer for Supply Chain Manager yesterday?”

His stern voice was almost like a slap through telephone.

“Yes. I read the handbook for Germany.”

“For Germany? You _do_ realize that there is a specific guide for Hamburg, because its process differs from other sites?”

“I…eeeh,” Clint felt his heart pick up speed. Different process? There was NOTHING about a different process in the process guide, he knew that fairly certainly, because he had read it really attentively. Was it possible there was something he missed?

“I…there was nothing…” he stammered, while his thoughts were racing.

“I really don’t think it’s so hard to understand. How long exactly have you been doing this job?”

Clint felt his face heat up. “A month.”

Suddenly, there was complete silence on the other end of the line. Clint closed his eyes, feeling awkward. “A month.” Coulson sighed, not even trying to hide his disbelief, but he got over the shock quickly and picked up the speed again. “The next time you do anything, read the manual first. We won’t manage to process the papers with this delay so I’ll renegotiate with the candidate and send you the new details. Send them for approval, but this time without involving Strucker, in Hamburg, his OK is not necessary.”

“Yes, I’ll do it, right when you send it,” Clint said quickly, seeing his chance to appear at least a little useful.

“Do that. As soon as possible. I’ll be waiting.”

Although the phone wasn’t slammed down, Clint still winced. So much for finally getting the hang of it. With a weary sigh he slid down his chair until he was almost lying in it. He stared at his screen, his shock slowly melting away into confusion. Process for Hamburg? He had never heard about a special process for Hamburg. He opened the Process guide for Germany stored on his desktop and looked for _Hamburg_. Of course there was no such word there, he would have remembered otherwise!

He stood up woodenly, still dazed and confused. He walked over to Steve.

“Steve, are there any guides stored elsewhere than the shared drive?”

Steve lifted his eyes from the screen, frowning. “Not that I know. No. Anything particular you’re looking for?”

“A guide for Hamburg.”

“For Hamburg?” Steve wondered, his frown growing even deeper. “I didn’t know there was a specific guide for Hamburg.”

With a deep sense of satisfaction Clint relaxed his shoulders. If Steve didn’t know…it was maybe a little forgivable that Clint had never heard of it.

“Well, Coulson seemed quite sure…” Clint trailed off. He was going to be professional! He wasn’t going to swear at the other man! He WASN’T!

“I haven't heard about a special process in Hamburg, but it might have been discussed with Pierce and Rumlow.” Steve mumbled thoughtfully as he intently searched in his emails and some files on the shared drive.

 “Could we ask Pierce then?” Clint asked cautiously.

“Pierce had already left, I’m afraid.” Steve responded absent-mindedly. 

“Ah.” That explained the chaos. “But there should be some docs about it, right? Everything in SHIELD is triple-checked and approved…” Clint pushed on.

“Should be…yeah.” Steve kept clicking, opening folders quickly, checking out various servers.

Clint reeled. Should? Should?? What the hell was going on?

Steve stopped clicking, he turned away from the computer and looked directly at Clint. “Never mind. Do you know what to do now to go on with your tasks?”

Clint thought back to Coulson. Despite the harsh tone and lack of patience, Coulson did give him a hint after all. “Yeah, I think for the moment I don’t need it.”

“Good, good. I know Germany is busy at the moment, so let me handle this. I’ll involve Natasha and we look into it, you just take care of your positions. I’ll let you know what we found out.”

Clint nodded, grateful that somebody capable was trying to help him. When he returned to his desk, he flopped down on the chair, replaying the call with Coulson in his head. Condescending asshole, who did he think he was! It was time to actually find out, Clint thought as he clicked through company structure chart to find the other man.

Well, fuck him sideways, he knew that Coulson was important, he just didn’t realize how much. The guy was actually in the top tiers of the company and he was only 13 years older than Clint. Despite the fact that Coulson probably was an asshole in need of some valium, anger management courses and intensive communication training on top of it, Clint still felt a little awed.

When he found Coulson's photo on LinkedIn, Clint gasped - the man staring at him from a professionally stylized photo looked…approachable and actually attractive. Coulson maybe wasn’t a standard hotie, but he had an interesting face with a strong jaw, nose that appeared to have been broken at least once and the _kindest_ blue eyes Clint had ever seen. It was a combination that made Clint’s insides flip. 

He stared at the photo fascinated. He had always believed in his sixth sense concerning people, but he simply couldn’t understand that a man with such nice eyes could be such an asshole. And yet…. Recalling Coulson’s tone, his harsh words…

~*~*~

     Even though he was firmly dedicated to NOT think about Coulson and his anger, Clint still couldn’t resist complaining to a sympathetic ear the next day, when he shared his lunch-break with Bucky. Clint realized that he was ranting for quite a while, when Bucky put down his cutlery into his empty plate and with a lifted eyebrow looked pointedly at Clint’s almost untouched lunch.

“So Coulson’s got you pretty worked up,” he remarked drily.

Clint put his waving hands down on the table. “Worked up? I’m not worked up. I just wanna do my job in peace. Not my problem HE’s so worked up.” Clint protested fiercely and then proceeded with shoveling food into his mouth spitefully.

“Yeah, sure, only Coulson’s tense...” Bucky winked at him.

“’m tens..all ‘s fault…” Clint protested through food in his mouth, causing Bucky to roll his eyes.

“Look…” Bucky leaned forward. “I know Coulson’s a little intense…” At Clint’s unimpressed full-cheeked expression he amended. “Ok… _quite_ intense, but he’s under a lot of pressure and Rumlow didn’t make it any easier for him.”

Clint tossed his head willfully. “Figured that much. Still an asshole.”

“Maybe an asshole, but he’ll get the job done. That’s why he’s there.”

“Don’t care.”

“Give him a break. He’s been always cool to us.”

“Yeah, that's because can't work without job contracts.” Clint protested heatedly. "You should hear him. I don’t think it’s so hard to understand. How long have you been doing this job?”Clint mocked harshly as he finished the food and threw some bills on the table.

Bucky stood up frowning. “Doesn’t sound like the Coulson I know.”

Clint shrugged and put on his jacket. “As I said, he needs Lifecycle.”

“Whatever, man. Just trust me, this is NOT the Coulson I know. But if I can help you, just call.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Clint thanked him, surprised how much he actually meant it. It felt nice to have at least somebody in his corner.

The lunch-long rant invigorated him a little and he felt more relaxed than in a long time. With the good feeling he set out to screen some of Coulson’s positions and actually setting some candidates for Coulson to check out without agonizing about it as he usually did. He even risked some unusuals. It didn't matter. If Coulson wanted Clint gone, he could no-doubt take care of it.

As if on cue his landline rang.

“Jesus! Way to scare a guy,” Clint mumbled, looking at the unknown number displayed, he picked up. “Clint Barton from SHIELD Recruitment speaking, how can I help you.”

“Mister Barton, there’s a call from Mr. Phillip Coulson, do you have space to accept the call now?”

Clint winced. It was like 10 p.m. in Germany, didn’t the vampire ever sleep?

“Yeah, put him through.”

The phone clicked. ““Hello, Mr. Coulson. Here’s Clint Barton speaking, can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can hear you loud and clear,” Coulson said evenly in a tone of somebody wondering why was their partner in conversation asking such ridiculous question.

“Mr. Barton,” Coulson started, sounding really tense. “I’ve got a problem here. There’s an urgent hiring in Dusseldorf. The candidate already has a different offer and to win her over I need to show her SHIELD contract as soon as possible. The start day would be in two weeks and she lives in France.” Two weeks? No wonder Coulson was tense.

“Do you have the approvals for the hiring?”

“No,” Coulson said reluctantly, as if he was admitting to something bad.

Clint frowned. Getting approvals for Dusseldorf was a lengthy process that took about five days, but without them they couldn’t officially start the hiring process.

“Ok,” Clint huffed out tensely. “There’s one possible solution, but it doesn't follow the process,” Clint tried tentatively, waiting for Coulson's reaction with abated breath, because he wasn't in SHIELD for very long, but he understood very quickly that the recruitment process was _untouchable_ , it was followed no matter the circumstances. There was no telling how a company man like Coulson would react to this.

After a beat Coulson replied tensely: “I’m listening.”

“Send me the candidate data. I’ll ask Lifecycle to start preparing all documents without the approvals. But I'll need them as soon as possible. Plus, the approved data must agree with what I send to Lifecycle.”

“I’ll get you the data and the approvals,” Coulson said decisively.

“Ok. I’ll handle Lifecycle and all papers on our side. You just take care of the approvals. If everything goes as planned, we can still make it.” Clint quickly counted out as he clicked through the system, doing the necessary steps while speaking. He didn’t even notice there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

“That…can be done?” Coulson sounded doubtful, but there was a spark of hope in Coulson's voice.

“As long as you get me the approvals, yes.”

“I’ll get them to you ASAP. Thank you for your support, Mr. Barton.” The call disconnected.

Clint stopped typing, shocked. He could swear that there was a hint of a soft smile in Coulson’s voice, despite the fact that vampires certainly didn't smile.

Whatever, it was nice to be shouted at for once, and maybe the shouting won’t last long, he thought as he dialed Bucky.

“Hi, Bucky, you remember when you promised me help? Because I need it now. Like very right now and don’t tell me that you can’t help me.”

“Damn. I knew I’d regret it.” Bucky drawled. “Ok, spill. What’s up.”

“I need you to create documents for unapproved hiring.” Clint said tentatively.

Bucky huffed. “You know I can't do that. It's against the process.”

“It’s a super fast-track Coulson-hiring for Dusseldorf with start in two weeks. I _need_ your help. Coulson promised to deliver the approvals ASAP.” Clint whined desperately.

“I see. Coulson again.”

“Will you help me?” Clint replied hopefully, balling his hands in fists.

Bucky sighed. “Ok. Send me what you have.”

Tension bled out of Clint’s shoulder. “You’re the BEST!”

“Don’t know why you ever doubted. Just send me the docs.”

“I’m right on it!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bucky huffed and cut off the call.

Clint let out a long relieved sigh feeling a broad grin spreading out on his face. Yeah, some days were better than the others. When he was sending the documents to Lifecycle in 20 minutes, he felt so good about his job like he hadn’t for a long time. Some days were so good, despite calls from Coulson!

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mr. Coulson.

          When the next day Clint came to work, he barely had the time to start his computer when his landline started ringing.

He eyed it distrustfully, but picked it up eventually.

“Clint Barton from Recruitment, how can I help you?”

“Mister Barton,” oh, the woman from Shield call center again. “You have a new call from Mr. Coulson waiting. Can I connect him?”

Clint looked at his still starting computer.

“What mood is he in?” he asked the operator, feeling the question wasn’t probably very professional, but he didn’t feel like being yelled at right in the morning, when he didn’t even have any facts, because his computer was slow.

“He didn’t sound angry as usually…” the lady supplied helpfully. Awesome, even the phone operator noticed that whenever Coulson called him, he was sour.

Staring at his hopelessly slow computer, Clint sighed. “Ah, just put him through.”

The woman on the other end of the line laughed. “Ok, he’s all yours.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for that,” Clint just grumbled out of habit, but then the phone clicked over.

“Hello Mr. Coulson, here is Clint Barton, can you hear me?” Clint asked expecting maybe a cold reply like the last time, but instead, Coulson’s voice sounded somehow….well…not so sharp.

“Yes, I can hear you loud and clear. Can I take a moment of your time to discuss something with you?”

Clint grabbed a pencil and paper, because polite Coulson, that sounded damn serious.

“Yeah, go ahead. Something’s wrong? Transfers should be fine, I checked with Lifecycle yesterday…”

He could literally feel his brain going into overdrive. What went wrong? There were so many possibilities - there were several internal transfers from around the world going on, a few candidates were starting on 15th….which meant in….eeeh….7 days, some might have cancelled on the last minute. It happened even in such a sought-after company like SHIELD.

“Ah, no, everything is going fine,” Coulson effectively cut off his internal rambling. "I wanted to discuss with you one of the candidates for Key Account Manager, Ms. Isabelle Hamid. I wanted to ask you, what lead you to recommending her.”

Clint briefly closed his eyes and whimpered internally. He remembered Ms. Hamid very well. She didn't really have the qualification for the job, but there was something in her CV that seemed interesting to him, like she was worth a second look, maybe even an interview too. He had shared her profile with HM in his brief moment of courage the other day.

“Yes, she’s really not a standard candidate, I guess, but I think her coaching experience makes her interesting. She teaches people, she must talk with them every day, right? Know how they tick. Understand what they want.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Interesting assessment.”

Clint awkwardly licked his lips, not quite sure how to respond.

“Thank you, Mr. Barton, I’ll keep in touch per email. Goodbye.”

Clint barely managed to mumble a bye, when he was already cut off. He put away his headset reluctantly. It was a weird call, for sure, but as long as Coulson wasn’t sarcastic or didn't question Clint’s choice of career, Clint could live with it. He couldn’t help but actually even feel a nice buzz. _Coulson_ was asking for his opinion! That was a first!

He didn’t get further in his private freak-out, because Steve stopped by his table.

“Have a moment?”

Still high on good endorphins, Clint swiveled on his chair towards his senior. “Sure thing, what’s up?” Seeing Steve’s face, his mood dropped. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing too bad, well, not concerning you anyway. I had gone with Natasha over documentation and we didn’t find any Hamburg docs. And the last week Rumlow started working for Pierce in Hydra Inc. We think that instead of working on Hamburg, as he claimed, Rumlow was stealing our information and know-how.”

Looking at the database opened on his screen, Clint swallowed thickly. Yeah, recruitment was a great place to gather info. Not as obvious as R&D, but actually many new projects needed resources and so they were discussed in Recruitment too.

“Unfortunately, with his recruitment badge and accesses, we didn’t notice. I just wanted to let you know, that you were right and there’s no Hamburg process guide. Never had been.”

So it wasn’t his fault after all. It was a relief, actually. “Does Coulson know? Because it needs to be remedied.”

“I'll handle that. We have scheduled a call with Coulson for tomorrow after we clear some things,” Steve said tiredly. 

When Steve left. Clint started cleaning the positions with grim determination. It was a long and tedious process of backtracking, deleting and straightening out everything. He had been on it for several hours, when his inbox notified him of a new message. No sooner had he seen the notification, Natasha Romanoff stuck out her head out of her office.

“Clint, have a moment?” she called briefly and disappeared back inside again.

Clint looked around himself, but both Thor and Tony were giving him identical looks of confusion. Obviously they didn’t know either, why he was called to the boss. Shrugging in response to their inquiring glances, he locked his computer, waggled his eyebrows at Tony, and hurried to her office.

“Yes, boss?” he asked when he cautiously entered the room. Maybe it was about his Coulson hiring that didn't go according to process.

However, it seemed like Romanoff wasn’t in a bad mood. She was sitting behind her desk and looking at him with calm eyes. 

“How’s Germany working out? I’ve heard that there were some teething problems by the take-over,” she asked.

Clint wouldn’t exactly call them teething-problems, thank you very much. Unless it meant that Romanoff’s dentist was casually going at her molars with rusty pliers and vodka in place of anesthesia. No, definitely not teething problems, but it wouldn’t actually make sense to complain about Coulson, because he outranked them both so much, he was practically untouchable.

“You know…the usual. Intakes, position screening, sharing candidates. The usual.”

“That’s interesting,” Romanoff said with a small quirk of her lips, then turned her attention to her computer. “Coulson seems to be of different opinion. He just wrote an email, you’re in copy, by the way, where we writes and I quote “…while new to his job, shows exceptional insight that many don’t gain even after years of experience. That combined with his helpful attitude make Mr. Barton a tremendous addition to the team, taking processes in Germany to a new level of effectiveness and cooperation quality. End of quote. So no need to be modest. I want you to know that I appreciate your effort and I’ll also notify Mr. Fury bout this case, in case Coulson doesn’t do it himself.”

Apart from the fact that Clint wasn't quite sure, who was Fury (but the name sounded familiar), it sounded all fantastic. So fantastic even that he didn’t know what to say and had to close his mouth with a click. Hell, as soon as he came to his computer, he’d save the email to his desktop! From the amused look his boss was giving him, he wasn’t hiding his glee very well.

“Coulson also wrote that in about two weeks he’d be coming here and he asked for a meeting. Considering that you are the only recruiter for Germany for the moment, he’ll probably want to meet with you too.” Clint stared at her flabbergasted. He never imagined meeting Coulson. (Let’s be honest, until only a few minutes ago, the idea was rather material nightmare were made of.) He had no idea what to expect, what would Coulson, one of the top dogs in the company, want with him?

Romanoff grinned, this time not really bothering to hide her expression. “Don't sell yourself short, Clint. I think you’ll be quite surprised yet.”

Clint wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but he sensed that their talk was over, so he quickly hurried back to his computer.

Damn. It was really there, an email from Coulson. He quickly read the lines again and again and again. He had been called a lot of things, but never _exceptional_ or _tremendous_. He re-read the lines an embarrassing number of times and then actually saved the email as PDF to his desktop. It was the nicest thing anybody had ever said about him.

*~*~*

Clint learnt to expect many things in his new work, what he didn’t expect one day was to come back to his workplace after lunch and find a man sitting on his chair. His back was turned to Clint and he was talking with Romanoff and Steve about something that seemed to be quite important. Clint cautiously approached their group, eyeing it curiously, not sure, if he should disturb, but then Romanoff spotted him.

“Clint, finally…”

“Sorry, I was on lunch,” Clint apologized reflexively. The man in suit turned around and Clint recognized him immediately, he was bit older, than in the photo, maybe had less hair, but the striking blue eyes betrayed his identity right away.

“Mister Coulson,” he said, hoping that his voice sounded less shocked in reality than it sounded to him.

“Mr. Barton,” Coulson outstretched his hand with a small pleasant smile. “It’s nice to meet you after so many calls and emails.”

Clint took the outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m sorry to see that you already had gone to lunch, as I was hoping to invite you to discuss some concepts for our future cooperation,” Coulson said smoothly, like he didn't notice that Clint’s brain froze.

Clint frowned slightly, wait what? _What_ future cooperation?

“How about a coffee now to clear the questions?” Coulson suggested smoothly.

Coffee? With Coulson? Clint’s brain seemed to stutter again.

“You free? Now?” Coulson asked patiently, although Clint had a feeling that he expected a more put-together reaction from him. His eyes flicked to Romanoff, who nodded. “It’s ok from my side, no sudden team meetings today.”

“Any phone interviews?” Coulson asked thoughtfully.

“No, I don’t think so, but let me check.” Clint quickly typed his password into the computer. So quickly in fact, that _Incorrect password_ popped up on the screen. Noooo, not now, he whined internally, feeling heat pour all over him. If not a headdesk, this sure deserved at least a facepalm, but he did neither and just entered the freaking password.

“No, the afternoon is clear today,” Clint confirmed trying to sound professionally, while his heart hammered.

“Great, if you don’t have anything right now, we could go.” Coulson offered with a small smile, his eye-corners crinkling into the most attractive crow feet ever. Stop it! Clint ordered his brain desperately, as he followed the man to the elevators and his eyes subconsciously slid down to his backside. "It’s a lovely ass,” his traitorously amnesiac brain supplied unhelpfully.

Before walking out of the office, Clint caught Tony’s glance, who gave him a thumbs up. Clint frowned. What the hell? Now he felt even more awkward as he followed Coulson into elevators. For a second it seemed like they will travel alone, but then suddenly the big black guy from Clint’s interview entered.

“Ah, Cheese,” he said very happily when he spotted Coulson. “Barton,” he added when he nodded towards Clint.

“Nick,” Coulson nodded back, with a smile that might have appeared reserved, but Clint was starting to understand, that Coulson was a man of a few words and expressions.

Clint blamed it later on his work-load and lack of corporate experience, but the truth was, it took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out that this man was Nicholas Fury, the toppest top dog in SHIELD. The very one, who was also on his job interview and held his side against Hill. Damn, Clint felt like hyperventilating.

Thankfully neither of the men seemed to notice, engrossed in their talk.

“I trust everything’s settled?” Fury asked Coulson easily, although Clint had a feeling like there were million meanings hidden in the simple question.

“Yeah, getting there,” Coulson answered guardedly, but it seemed to be enough for Fury, who now took a glance at Clint. “I see you’re taking our Mr. Barton for a lunch.”

“Coffee, actually.” Coulson corrected mildly.

“Don’t lose him. He’s important to us.” Fury groused good-naturedly.

“He’s important to me too,” Coulson said simply and Clint went red all over fighting the urge to throw up all over him. He was not used to people talking nicely about hi.

The elevator stopped and Fury moved. “And, this is my stop. When you finish, come to me.”

“Of course, was planning to, afterwards.”

Before Clint had the time to martial his thoughts into some kind of array, they were sitting in a small place near the office he didn’t even know existed. When he looked at the prices, he probably knew why, sheesh. He didn’t know coffee could be this expensive.

“I would suggest trying this tiramisu with the coffee too,” Coulson suggested. Tiramisu? Clint thought that this was business coffee. Was Coulson preparing him for some bad news? Bad news always went better down with some cake, didn't it?

Probably catching his uncomfortable shift (Clint had a feeling Coulson’s attention didn’t escape much) Coulson smiled gently. “Take it as my sorry for how I behaved recently and also my thank you. I had been under a lot of stress in Germany, mostly caused by your predecessor, Mr. Rumlow.” Clint shivered. He knew that Coulson wasn’t a man to be trifled with, but despite the fact that Coulson's voice sounded soft, Clint hoped that Rumlow had moved out of the city for his own safety.

“I had a long talk with Ms. Romanoff the other day. It seemed that Mr. Rumlow made some questionable choices. I understand you weren’t in the best position when you started, to put it mildly. I….” Coulson seemed to hesitate a little, like he was preparing to say something difficult. “I’m sorry, I was a part of the problem and didn’t make it any easier.”

Holy shit! Clint thought he would swallow his tongue. “It’s ok…I understand,” he managed to stammer out, trying to cover up how his whole face heated up. Suddenly, he was glad that they were in a small shop with almost nobody there. Then it occurred to him that Coulson didn’t pick this shop by chance. This was his plan of apology all along. Oooooh, that was smart. Clint admired smart and competent.

“It’s all fine,” he responded firmly. Nothing happened. Long forgotten. Water under the bridge! He hoped that Coulson would get it, what he meant. Just to be sure, he added an open and honest smile. Coulson smiled back, all apology, gentleness and crinkles. Clint could bet that that smile could bring even the world peace.

“Thank you. I know it hadn’t been easy,” Coulson responded sincerely and it occurred to Clint that he might have been nervous about this whole apology thing.

“We all have rough days,” Clint responded and that seemed to finally give Coulson peace of mind, because he smiled again and happily dug into his cake (when did they even bring them? Hell, Clint couldn't even remember anyone ordering!).

“Thank you. And also thanks to you and your excellent choice of candidates, we had been able to hire and train crucial staff for Germany, so expect to return back to the US in a few months and coordinate everything from here. In close cooperation with you.”

Clint’s heart started to beat a lot faster again. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Coulson." 

Coulson smiled and Clint could really get used to seeing that smile every day. 

"Call me Phil, please." 

Clint smiled widely ah the suggestion. He hoped the cooperation would be very, very, VERY close indeed. He couldn’t wait!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining the ride and coming this far. I know...not even a kiss *sniffles*, but we all know, where it's heading from now on. Maybe I will expand on their ride future, if inspiration strikes.


End file.
